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Chapter 7
Will
Jovie turns her head down the instant we step inside and it takes a moment for me to realize why.
I shift between their judging eyes and her downturn face. “Come on,” I tell Jovie.
She digs her heels in but finally caves, letting me lead her toward the back corner. I feel her one step behind me as we navigate the sea of pool tables and fluorescent lights. We settle at a small table-for-two in the back, farthest away from them as possible. As we settle down, the others go back to doing what they’re doing but there’s still the occasional glance in our direction.
“You remember that old movie with the killer birds?” Jovie asks as she takes a seat. “Where the people walk through the center of the herd of crows, hoping they don’t suddenly get attacked and have their eyes plucked out?”
“A group of crows is called a murder,” I say.
She chuckles, glancing around. “Well, that’s fitting.”
“Just ignore them.”
“I don’t even recognize half of these people,” she says. “How do they know me?”
“From the wanted sign poster up in the post office, I’d imagine.”
“Okay, I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
“It’s a joke,” I say.
“Thank God.”
Lucky arrives at our table, her red hair pinned up in a hive on the top of her head. She locks on Jovie and she throws on a sly smile. “Jovie Ross...”
“That’s me,” Jovie says.
“I wondered when you’d come rolling back through town.”
“Well…” She shifts uncomfortably. “Here I am.”
“Here for good?”
“Here for now.”
“Yeah,” Lucky chuckles, “I’ve been saying that for thirty years.”
Jovie ignores it and throws on her classic, bullshit-eating smile.
Lucky eyes me instead. “What can I get for you two?”
“I’ll take a beer,” I say. “Whatever you’ve got on tap is fine.”
“Same,” Jovie adds.
“Coming right up.”
Lucky walks off to the next table and Jovie twists her head around to watch her go. Her eyes slowly scan the place, shifting in her little skull as they land on one prying face to the other.
I clear my throat, drawing her gaze back to me and we sit in a silent holding pattern until Lucky returns with our glasses.
Once she’s gone, Jovie sighs.
“Okay,” she says. “Go ahead. Ask away.”
